


Important Detail

by lesbomancy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cyberpunk, Dystopia, Gen, Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6078189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbomancy/pseuds/lesbomancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dekk, my OC, is transplanted to a futuristic cyberpunk future where revolution is on the minds of many... because why not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Important Detail

The smell of burning garbage and urine filled his nostrils, rifle held steady against his armored forearm as he surveyed from his post in an abandoned parking garage. His pointer finger gently caressed the trigger guard as he shifted down to a squat, crosshair of his scope following a group of businesspeople in suits as they crossed a plaza and packed into a blocky armored vehicle. Armored guards with high-tech armor jumped onto the skirt of the armored car and held onto the door for balance, one of them mounting a turret between the driver’s cab and the VIP armored box that was the passenger seating.

“VIP group on the move,” he said as unemotionally as possible.

His uniform was an operator’s black BDU’s with armored plating, a wearable computer on his left wrist and a matching black military street cap with a headset underneath. On his left shoulder was a company patch reading “PSI” above a stylized logo of an eastern dragon twisted into an S shape. Over his breast was his name – ‘DEKK’ – in plain English.

As the armored vehicle in the distance pulled away it joined a convey of others before joining in with traffic, the silhouette of the trucks fading into normalcy as they passed by unmanned industrial transports, civilian vehicles and the odd vintage gasoline driven vehicles which had been converted to properly run on solar roadways.

“Reiner here,” a harsh, yet clearly feminine german voice announced on Dekk’s earpiece. “Gang territory is past the Gerrato Medical Clinic.. potential shakedown or roadblock is high.”

“Understood,” Dekk responded as he kept following the slowly traveling convoy as it weaved in and out through a wave of traffic. “Going to lose visibility to a billboard in ten seconds.”

An enthusiastic young voice with a jagged eastern European accent cut in, almost shouting across the radio. “Team 2 is on schedule and in position! The Grizzly is aboard the Albatross, just in case!”

“Copy,” Dekk returned. He licked his lips in anticipation, finger tapping gently against the trigger guard as the convey disappeared into the metallic puzzle of buildings and 3D, colored advertisements riddling the roofs of all street side buildings in the most run-down stretch in the entire city, one too poor to afford an upgrade from concrete pavement to solar roadways, the armored cars shaking visibly as they went from a smooth ride to what could be described as urban 'off-roading.’ He held his breath until it reappeared several seconds later, nostrils flaring as the lead vehicle weaved out of the way of a pedestrian and local traffic seemed to dissipate into side-streets.

A small blip in his scope is the last he saw of the lead vehicle, a landmine or rocket launcher sending the armored car flying off into an alley like a discarded paper airplane, crumpled and flaming. The second and third vehicles sped up immediately, the new lead gunning it over the explosion of the first. It’s armored hood popped straight off, white-hot fire shooting from the ground in a conical direction as the machine tripped another land mine. The rear vehicle began to back up, the guards hanging off the side and situated in the gun turret scanning the area in a heightened panic.

The noise and screaming over his headset threatened to give him a headache as he felt each pump of blood flush to his face, the sensation feeling as if he were going to explode if his skin got any tighter. Everything seemed a little more clear despite how uncomfortable it was and by the time a fifth floor window was pushed open above the VIP car he was already letting loose a timed exhale and squeezing the trigger on his rifle.

A mechanical clink rang out in the parking garage where he was situated and the rifle burrowed itself against Dekk’s shoulder, the round traveling nearly a mile before the would-be ambusher armed with a handheld RPG exploded into maroon mist from the neck up, their body disappearing from view as they collapsed into their building.

“Situation shit the bed,” an American man said loudly over the radio. “Taking the convey towards Hwang plaza – get the door open, we’ll need IMMEDIATE extraction!”

Crackles of gunfire and metallic pinging rung out over the American man’s radio, Dekk seeing the VIP car’s turret pivoting, the black helmet of the person manning it bobbing up just enough to aim. The turret began to fire into an old wall, leveling a dilapidated building enough so that the car could punch through it onto the adjacent street. As soon as they were again with sparse traffic and among panicked pedestrians the car hitched back and traveled as fast as it could in Dekk’s direction.

Behind it, several motorbikes and a handful of drones chased after the car. They fired erratically, not caring for civilian casualties or collateral damage. Those on the bikes looked to be of the 'New Human’ front, a gang of mechanically augmented individuals who were pushing for mandatory gene therapy and augmentations to remove the world of 'undesirable’ individuals 'cursed’ with mental illness or physical disabilities. The drones, however, seemed to be a part of something else entirely. Their markings read them as Europa military but with the disbanding of the armed forces earlier in the year that could’ve meant anything. A revolutionary symbol on the lead drone gave Dekk an idea of what was going on, a concentrated attack against his employers.

Dekk took another deep breath, exhaled, and released an explosive round from his rifle. The butt tore into his shoulder like a feisty mule and in the blink of an eye one of the drones following after the VIP’s armored car exploded into a cloud of shrapnel and fire. As the convey of attackers peeled down the main avenue of the city they were joined by more paramilitary looking forces hanging out of civilian vehicles, local gangs with nothing but ire for the planetary government who were just as much a danger to each other than they were to the VIPs had they not been unified in the purpose of chasing down a ministry vehicle and skinning anyone inside alive.

What remained of the local corporate-owned police cruisers from protected neighborhoods broke through side-streets in an attempt to stop the chase but with the chaos of traffic only the most armored vehicles were able to shove aside civilian transports and cars effortlessly, anything short of a garbage truck’s pure, raw mechanical power ended up trapped in a pile up among scared, wounded civilians.

One of the guards hanging on for their lives disappeared behind a bus that the armored car collided with, a skidmark of red and block on the tan exterior armor the only indication that they ever existed. News and police drones began to hover overhead, displaying the chase in all of it’s glory on every television on the planet as 'breaking news.’

They were only half a mile from his building now, Dekk able to fire off a clean shot into the engine block of one of the pursuing motorbikes and sending rider and metal off in 360 degrees of explosive carnage. As soon as he lined up another shot the building shook violently, bits of stone and dust from the roof above him littering his perch and rifle. He quickly readjusted and blew a hole clean through the windshield of a vintage humvee, the vehicle skidding and eventually flipping over as stronger wheeled machinery pushed it aside like tissue paper in the wind. The mass of opposition grew, angry civilians and revolutionaries who saw the PSI logo and joined in on the chase – the city wanted blood.

“Dekk! Get to the Albatross. Grizzly is on the ground,” Reiner cried out.

He packed up immediately, stowing the casing catcher on his rifle into his bag along with his discarded magazines. He hauled it over his shoulder and ran for the roof, briefly becoming blinded by sunlight when he crashed through the thick metal door which read 'EMPLOYEES ONLY.’ The rest of his cleaner team were already set up, a 24 foot tall bipedal mech with a chain gun for a right arm marching it’s way down the ramp, it’s clamp-like feet digging into the old concrete and causing Dekk to feel as if he was bouncing.

The Albatross had it’s ramp extended and it’s ass pointed down towards the parking garage, eagerly awaiting the VIP car as it finally broke through a local park on it’s way to the garage. The sound of drones, gunfire, screaming and tires screeching on the roadways became louder and closer. Dekk set himself up behind an old, beat-up car without it’s wheels and leveled his rifle for the ramp to the lower levels. He had survived enough to see that this mission was by far the worst foul-up in his professional history.

A city of anarchy in a world of conflict.

Dekk blinked, the VIP car peeling around the corner and threatening to flip as the driver attempted to right itself. A slumped-over corpse sat in the turret seat and none of the guards hanging on to the car at the beginning of the trip were still there. An overwhelming force followed behind it, all of them vehicles filled to the brim with paramilitary men or gang members bearing their colors. The mech that stood guard at the ramp had a truck crash into it, it’s legs tearing off as the jury-rigged semi cab flung off the side of the building with it just because of the force of the crash. Concrete cracked, chipped and exploded and the team of Paik-Schrader mercenaries opened fire on everything behind the VIP car.

The armored vehicle plowed into the back of the Albatross, rattling around like a penny in a coffee can. It’s hatch began to close and the engines shot themselves to life, the VTOL taking off without so much as a word to the guards down below who were now trapped with Dekk.

“Reiner,” Dekk said in a panic. “Don’t leave us alone down here!”

“We have a second Albatross coming in, that roof is only big enough for one! It’s coming in now, hold on! Hold on!” The radio clicked, the woman’s voice cracking in distress.

As vehicles piled up in the mouth of the rampway drones began to appear from all around, some of them law enforcement and news outlets but most of them were heavily armed and began to fire on the group of hired soldiers. What little cover they had put up little defense against an aerial unit, casualties increasing with every blink of an eye.

He pulled his pistol from it’s holster and began to fire at the sky, the tell-tale whirr of the Grizzly’s chain gun sounding off on the lower level of the garage. Through the carnage of the crashing vehicles he could see that the mangled mech was hanging onto the building, firing off at those approaching and hanging them up on destroying it. It bought Dekk and those around them more time than they would’ve had otherwise, despite the gang and paramilitary vehicles pushing hard and literally blowing up any obstacle in their way.

In the distance he could see the second dropship approaching, drones peppering the area he was crouched behind with small arms fire. The radio was a mass of screaming and panicked pleading for retrieval. As it got closer it’s guns kicked up and began shooting at nearby drones, the surviving PSI mercenaries huddling to the section of the roof closest to the dropship. It’s ramp descended invitingly and the space between ship and roof became less by the second.

Dekk peeked over his cover, looking down at the mass of burning vehicles piled up in front of the Grizzly. The muzzle flashes from the machine’s chaingun stopped, the barrel hot red as a heavily armored truck with a front plow simply pushed anything in it’s way off of the level. With a groan of strained metal the Grizzly’s arm broke off and it fell, several trucks and armored cars following with it. Civilian clothed men and women of all ages began to run past the armored truck and towards the ramp, chanting the memetic phrase 'Our city, our rules’ at the top of their lungs. A few of the mercs returned fire at the mob that was advancing but most of them were covering, preparing themselves for what they prayed would be an evacuation.

The Albatross’ ramp clanked loudly against the roof as it made landfall, the concrete wall disintegrating with every ebb and flow of the VTOL and it’s raw strength as a superior machine. The mercenaries began to pile into it, despite fire from drones and the mob ripping into them as they crawled, pushed, and pulled themselves to safety. Dekk shoved a PSI enforcer who couldn’t have been older than 19 forward before him, forcing the young man to crawl on his hands and feet into the carrier area of the dropship.

Bullets pinged off of the cover and ground, killing a good few of them before they had a chance to make a run for it. Some were dead as they attempted to relocate from across the roof, strewn on cover as their bodies contorted into ragdoll poses from their failed maneuvers. Dekk kicked off, leaving his rifle behind and climbed onto the ramp. His hand grasped that of another mercenary inside of the VTOL, pulling him forward.

With a hitch the vessel kicked off only a half second later, Dekk losing his footing and falling forward onto the metal ramp face-first. A crunch emitted internally, the pain causing him to see nothing but red as his body rolled to the side. The mercenary grabbing his hand screamed wildly, a fresh bullet wound tearing into his leg from the crowd on the rooftops. Several other mercenaries began to return fire, one woman going so far as to dive for Dekk’s hand as he slipped away, gloved hands pawing at the textured metal.

He felt her fingertips brush against his, the Albatross’ engines forcing the vessel forward again as it engaged flight mode. The bump pushed him up in the air, his body bouncing down and flailing off the side, his hands waving for the others trying to grab him. Life stopped going by as fast for Dekk, the man able to see those on the rooftop looting and stripping the corpses of the corporate soldiers while their mantra filled the air like a white noise in front of the strength and boom of the dropship’s engines.

His body twisted mid-air and as he twirled downwards from the five story drop he saw the Grizzly burning, trapped by the debris of gnarled metal that was once a fleet of vehicles. It’s main hatch was open and several feet from it the pilot was being beaten by a group of civilians, unaffiliated with whatever was going on from the looks of it but invested in venting their rage all the same. Dekk closed his eyes and let gravity pull his head forward as his face pointed towards the sky.

A sensation of weightlessness and calm overtook him, barely pushing past the pain in his face and the burning sensation in his nostrils and throat. All sound around him disappeared and his life became a vacuum of nothingness which seemingly did not end. Acceptable painted itself onto his person, a weary emotion as his body hit a tree and bent around the branch before it snapped and sent him down further by another two stories.

With a wet, muted thud his body landed face-up on the grass of the popular historic plaza. He still hung to consciousness despite the fall, his lungs feeling full and wet and heavy as he struggled to breath. Limbs were unresponsive and so were his arms. Wet, wheezing breathes were all he could manage as pain crept back into what was, if only briefly, a sanctuary devoid of such sensations. His eyelids fluttered open and he stared up at a news drone which had it’s round, spherical lense pointed down at him. It became difficult for him to stay away, to not go to sleep which was becoming slowly comforting on his patch of wet grass.

Dekk’s eyes jolted open, the sight of a fast moving aircraft above rousing what interest still laid within him. Cylindrical pods dropped from the aircraft’s belly, their diagonal path carving through the sky, exhaust blowing out of ventilation shafts in the side as they attempted to slow down before impacting on the roof. Dust billowed in all directions, forcing a dark cloud in the way of the sky which made it hard to see, the crackle of gunfire and screaming shoving it’s way past to his bleeding ears, forcing him to listen to what was happening above.

He tried again to move, instead wheezing from the wet fluid filling his lungs with every breath. He was dizzy, tired and hurt.. and slowly he realized that if he kept his eyes closed the hurt would stop. It was quiet and serene. Dekk closed his eyes, allowing the himself to rest. The man’s face went slack.

It was quiet.


End file.
